The Phoenix and the Dragon
by Irene Moriarty xx
Summary: Ever since she could remember, Molly Hooper longed to be out on the sea. But sailing isn't a sport for a female elf, so she dresses up like a human sailor boy and runs away from home to board a pirate ship. Molly meets the eccentric and seemingly unapproachable Captain Yellowbeard. Intrigued by his character, she makes friends with him and endeavors to uncover his mysterious past.
1. The Elf Princess

**Author Note:**

 **This tale is based loosely on the famous Chinese legend, Butterfly Lovers, a Romeo and Juliet-like story about two star-crossed lovers. It's not really in character, but we're studying the book right now in class and I wanted to incorporate it into one of my works. Hope you enjoy, reviews are appreciated!**

 **-Irene xx**

Molly Hooper stared wistfully outside her window to the vast sea beyond, the twinkling lights of the humans gliding gracefully across the horizon. She longed to be with them, to sail away to far away lands, but elves were forbidden from interacting with humans. And that's what she was: an elf. An elf trapped inside a large, boring castle.

Molly sighed and slumped back onto her bed, the moonlight reflecting her shadow onto the wall. How she wished she was a human, and not an elf! But she couldn't change anything about it...or could she?

She sat upright in bed, her brain whirring. She couldn't man a boat because she was an elf, and a girl, and others would not let her. But if the others didn't know who she was, could it work? Could her dreams come true?

Switching on the light, Molly ran to her desk and began working on a plan.

ooOoo

 **24 hours later**

Molly murmured to herself as she counted off the items. Clothes, food, a flashlight, compass, money...yep. She had everything she needed. Now came the hard part.

She grabbed a pair of scissors and began neatly trimming her hair, until it was just shorter than her ears. Then she changed into the boy robes that she had bought from the store earlier that day, finally tying a bandana around her head to conceal her pointed ears.

Quietly stuffing everything into a satchel, Molly carefully tiptoed out of her room, making sure not to wake her slumbering parents.

With a small creak, she pushed the gates open and make her way across the sandy beach. The land of humans was far away, and she realized she didn't have a plan to get there—until she noticed the boat.

It was a rather larger ship, bobbing slightly against the waves. Molly was confused at first, as elves rarely used the sea for travel. Why would humans be here? Then it hit her: pirates.

She trotted back a couple steps, but something stopped her. This was the opportunity that she had been waiting for. If she could just sneak onboard, chances are no one would harass her. And, she looked like a human boy anyways, so it was all good.

Molly started at a jog, but sped up into a run as she approached the ship. _Sherrinford_ , it read. Grinning, Molly climbed up the rope that had been deployed, just as shouting and yelling broke the serene silence. Molly spotted ten—no, twenty masked pirates running with bags of gold in their hands, chased by an angry mob of elven elders. The leader, a tall pirate with a black cloth over his face, jumped up onto the boat and began to untie the knot securing it to the dock, as the rest of the crew clambered aboard. Molly was swept backwards by the tide of humans, and felt the boat lurch as it began to sail away.

 _I did it,_ she thought triumphantly. _I'm on a ship!_

ooOoo

No one noticed her at first. She blended in well with the others, and nobody seemed to realize that she wasn't supposed to be there at all. The first two weeks were lonely, but exciting nonetheless. She spotted sharks and dolphins, waves as high as herself, felt winds both strong and gentle she was amazed at how different each day was. The sun would illuminate the ocean with a warm glow at day, and the stars would come out with a twinkle at night.

The crew were friendly. They taught her a human card game called poker, and introduced her to a human drink called beer. Molly didn't like the beer very much, it made her slightly dizzy. The only person who didn't say a word to any of them was the captain. Captain Yellowbeard.

Captain Yellowbeard was a mysterious man. He never spoke unless he was giving orders, and nobody knew his real name. Molly learned from a fellow sailor early on not to interact with him, as he was very grouchy.

One morning, Molly had just finished up her breakfast when suddenly a cannonball fired at the ship. The ball tore through the mast, sending it down onto the ship. The sails fell over, and the boat tilted dangerously.

"Man overboard!" Someone yelled, panicked. "We got to get out of here, jump ship now!" Everyone began making their way to the lifeboats.

"No!" Cried Captain Yellowbeard. "Stay here and defend your posts!" But no one paid him any heed. A second explosion rocked the air, and the crew was running for dear life. Molly looked once at the lifeboats, then back at the mast. The sail was caught in the cannons, but if she could free it, she could attack back.

Sprinting across the rough wood, Molly reached the edge of the boat and leaned over, working on the canvas. With a great yank, she pulled it free and jumped down onto the cannons. She had never fired one before, but decided to take a stab at it. There was a fuse on top of it, and a piece of flint and steel chained to the side. It took a couple tries, but Molly finally lit it and it caught fire. She held the flames to the fuse, and covered her ears.

 _Boom!_ The world shook as the cannon fired, and Molly slipped off, falling down into the water. Bubbles clouded her vision as she tried to stay afloat, but a wave knocked her down and everything went black.


	2. A Dragon's Curse

"Sit up, sailor!"

Molly coughed and opened her eyes, blinking sunlight out of them. Above her head loomed the face of the feared Captain Yellowbeard. Molly scrambled to her feet.

"What's your name?" He barked, circling her.

"Hooper," she replied timidly. Captain Yellowbeard regarded her suspiciously.

"Hooper," he repeated, but in a softer tone, "you're still onboard."

"Yes, sir," Molly answered, unsure of where this was going.

"Why?"

"Well, sir," she started, "you told us not to leave."

"Damn right I did," the captain responded, turning to face the others, "you hear that? I tell you not to leave, you don't leave. All of you, dismissed. Return to your quarters immediately."

"Yes sir," came a mumbled reply. Everyone shuffled towards the stairs. Molly turned to leave.

"Except you," he instructed. Molly stopped. Captain Yellowbeard walked closer to her and removed his hat, revealing a set of dark, fluffy curls. Molly looked up at his face and noticed for the first time that his eyes were icy blue, unlike most humans and elves. "Listen, Hooper. You may have died today by not jumping ship, but your loyalty compelled you to stay. I respect that. You also saved the ship, by fixing the cannons. You seem to not be an idiot, so I would like you to be my right hand man."

"I would be very pleased to, sir," Molly replied, unable to stop a grin from spreading on her face.

"Very well, Hooper," Captain Yellowbeard replied, a kind twinkle in his eye. "You are dismissed."

ooOoo

The days passed, which soon turned to weeks that became months. Before Molly knew it, two years had passed.

Those two years were not uneventful, however. In fact, they were the most exciting ones of her life. They often looted villages and stole from towns. Molly herself didn't approve of it, so she was allowed to stay behind as a lookout. Still, it was entertaining sorting through all the riches and valuables that they acquired, and partaking in the drinking that followed shortly afterwards.

Captain Yellowbeard also intrigued Molly greatly, and she endeavored to uncover the past of the seemingly unapproachable man. He was still, in every way, coarse and rude, but Molly noticed he was kinder to her than to the other crew members. He seemed to know everything, from who had been drinking the night before to which crew member had loaded the cannons. He also had many odd habits: firing guns at half past one in the morning, talking to a skull he kept next to the steering wheel, things of that sort.

Once, when Molly couldn't sleep, she had went up to the upper deck to find him playing the fiddle, a sad expression on his face, as if he were reliving a tragedy that had occurred long ago. She had left before he noticed her, but her curiosity about this man intensified.

Curiosity wasn't the only thing she felt towards the man. Despite his eccentric ways, she found him quite endearing. Sometimes when they were alone at the wheel he would tell her stories about his many adventures, from battling sea monsters to his most impressive robberies. Molly was enchanted by them, from the way he wove words into colorful pieces of art she could almost see, to his rich baritone voice, and how his hands would move when he talked. She was falling for him, yet he still did not know her true identity.

"Hooper!" The captain called one morning. "Gather your items, we're going on an exploration."

"Who will be joining us, sir?" Molly asked, swinging her backpack onto her shoulder.

"Just us. The smaller the better. I want to stake out a hiding spot for a potential loot." Molly nodded and crawled down the ladder, Captain Yellowbeard in the rear. They made their way towards a small cave on the beach.

The duo spent the day scavenging for logs to start a fire and food. When dusk fell, they had gathered a heaping pile of wood and several birds that the Captain had shot. Molly huddled under a blanket as Captain Yellowbeard roasted a bird on a stick.

"Captain," Molly started, "I have been at your side for these many eves, and yet I am no closer to getting to know you as I was when I first came aboard this ship."

"What would you like to know?" He asked, looking up.

"Well," Molly thought, "your name, for one. People call you Captain Yellowbeard, but I don't think that's your real name."

"It isn't," he agreed, "my name, Hooper, is Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes."

"Sherlock Holmes," she echoed the strange words, "that's an interesting name. I've never heard of it as a human name before."

"That's because I'm not human," Sherlock replied. "Or at least, I wasn't when I was named."

"What do you mean?" Molly wondered, "You weren't a human but now you are?"

Sherlock nodded, and Molly could see a trace of sadness in his face. "A very long time ago, before there were elves and humans and gnomes and monsters, there were gods. They ruled the Earth to keep peace, and their offspring were called immortals. I was one of them. A dragon to be exact."

"Dragons! What other creatures were there?" She listened with rapt attention.

"Many others," Sherlock answered, "phoenixes and mermen, unicorns and pegasi, dwarfs, everything."

"What happened to them?" Molly wondered. "Are they gone?"

Sherlock regarded her. "They're not gone. They still exist, but in the form of other species. Phoenix gods, patron of intelligence and wit, created elves, for example. Mermen and dwarf gods, they value power and respect, and helped make mankind. Dragons, well, don't do much in the mortal world. When I was a dragon, I would patrol the city and bring wrongdoers to justice."

"So," Molly started, "why aren't you a dragon anymore?" Sherlock closed his eyes, and for the first time, Molly saw a tear drip down his cheek.

"My older brother, Mycroft, seven years my senior; and my best friend, John Watson, a dwarf who resided in the Palace with me; they were murdered, and I was the prime suspect."

"But they were your brother and friend!" Molly exclaimed. "How could anyone accuse you of such a thing?"

"Moriarty," Sherlock's somber expression was replaced by one of anger. "An evil fire demon. He whispered into the minds of the Elders, turning everyone against me. It didn't matter how hard I resisted. Once he planted the idea in their head, it could not be killed." He shook his head. "I was banished here to the Earth, cursed to live a lonely life as a human."

"I'm sorry, Captain," Molly whispered quietly.

"Sherlock, please," Sherlock turned the bird over. "It's been a long time since I've told anyone about it. I have to say, it was...oddly refreshing."

"So, Sherlock, how old are you?" Molly inquired.

"In human years, eighteen." Sherlock replied, "though I feel much older."

"Since you told me your past, I must tell you a secret of my own." Molly leaned forward. Sherlock looked up, interested. She untied her bandana, revealing a set of pointy elf ears. Sherlock gingerly touched the tips of them.

"You're an elf," he remarked, amazed. Molly nodded. "Why?"

"I always wanted to sail and command a boat of my own, but only humans did that and elves aren't allowed to interact with them. I snuck away the day you came to my town."

"I admire your determination and courage, Hooper." Sherlock nodded, impressed.

"Please call me Molly, my first name," Molly added. "Hooper sounds so formal."

Sherlock frowned. "Molly? As in the female name?"

Molly smiled. "Yeah."

"You're a girl?"

"Uh huh." Sherlock leaned back, still processing this new bit of information. "I never thought my best friend would be an elven girl. I never even thought I'd have a best friend, after John died."

"I'm your best friend?" Molly asked, amazed. Sherlock nodded. They held each other's gaze for a long time. She couldn't stand it anymore. Molly brushed a strand of hair away from her face and leaned in for a kiss.

 _Bong!_ Molly pulled away, looking around for the source of the noise. Sherlock pulled out a sword, and gestured for her to follow him. They extinguished the fire and climbed up the hill, where Molly saw an assembly of elves gathered around a large bell.

"The Elf King has fallen ill!" An elf riding a horse announced. "The Queen has asked for our young men to join the troops. We need to keep our kingdom safe, especially in these dark times. Registration begins at sunrise tomorrow morning. Good day, all."

Molly gasped. "I need to return home."

"What's wrong?" Sherlock asked, concerned.

"The Elf King...he's my father."


	3. What Twisted Fate

Sherlock watched sadly as his only friend sailed away. Upon hearing that Molly was the Elf Princess, he had taken her back to the ship to gather her belongings. Before she left, she pulled off her bandana and handed it to him.

"I would like you to take this," she murmured, tucking it in his bag. Molly put one hand on his shoulder and placed a small kiss on his cheek, then turned away and stepped into the lifeboat. Sherlock sighed, his face still warm from the touch of her lips.

Soon, the ever-shrinking dot that was Molly disappeared, and he felt the loneliness and anguish return. He would never see her again.

 _It doesn't have to be like this_ , his subconscious whispered.

ooOoo

"Father!" Molly cried, bursting into his room, expecting to see him on the bed. Instead, it was empty.

"Father?" She asked. The door behind her opened.

"Molly," the king stopped in his tracks. "You've returned."

"I thought you were sick!" Molly remarked, confused. "I heard the message, it had been broadcast on all of the islands."

The King smiled, but it lacked emotion. There was a cunning gleam in his eye.

"It worked then," he whispered.

"What did?" Molly asked, confused.

"I sent that message out on purpose. After you ran away, we were able to flag down the ship that had stolen from us. When one of our guards caught sight of it the other day, I was notified."

"We thought you were dead!" Molly's mother, the Queen, entered the room. She rushed towards Molly and embraced her. Molly hugged her back, surprised at how much she had missed her parents.

"Our scouts gave up, but we never did," the King said, "Tom will be delighted."

"Tom? Who's Tom?" Molly's head snapped up.

"An interested suitor. His family contacted us after we sighted the ship. He is of wealthy descent, and now that you're back we can plan the wedding."

"What?" Molly was horrified. "A wedding?"

"Yes, dearest." Her mother beamed. "You're sixteen now, you're old enough to become Queen."

"Would you excuse me for a moment? I think I need some fresh air." Molly turned around and ran down the hallway and out onto the beach, making for her lifeboat. As she got closer, she saw that there was another one docked next to it.

"Sherlock!" She cried, running forward. He greeted her enthusiastically by pulling her into a hug. "You came!"

"I couldn't stand the thought of never seeing you again." He confessed. "I guess because of this, I don't have to."

"Because of what?" Molly asked him.

"I'm here to ask for your parents' blessing to marry you." There was a stunned silence, then Molly started crying.

"What's is it?" Sherlock wiped the tears from her face. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, it's not..." Molly sniffled. "Oh, Sherlock, you're too late."

"Too late?" His face fell. "What do you mean?"

"I'm to get married in two weeks with one of the royal suitors," Molly sniffled, "I'm sorry, Sherlock."

"No, I'm sorry." Sherlock buried his face in his hands. "This is my fault. I was foolish enough to think that I could break my curse, that Fate would let me live a life complete with love. I brought this misfourtune on both of us."

"Hey, you!" Molly whirled around to see a ring of guards closing in on them. Some were holding torches, others had swords and spears.

"Filthy human!" One of them growled. "Step away from the princess!"

"No, wait he's—" Molly let out a muffled yelp as someone grabbed her and began dragging her back to the castle. "He's my friend!" She cried out, but no sound escaped her lips.

ooOoo

Sherlock backed up, but he knew it was over. He was no longer an immortal, no longer a mighty fire-breathing dragon. He could try to fight back, but did he even want to? His life was a cruel, unjust joke. If he was destined to be alone, stripped of the things he loved, like crime-solving, his brother, John and Molly, what was the point of staying alive anymore?

He didn't really have a lot of time to ponder that question, because the first round of the attack started. The soldiers charged forward, wielding their weapons.

 _Make it quick,_ Sherlock grimaced. _I never liked pain._

The last thing he heard was Molly's anguished scream.

ooOoo

Molly sat on the bed, unmoving. There was a pile of bowls filled with uneaten food, yet she made no attempt to take them. It had been fourteen days since Sherlock had passed away, but she hadn't moved a muscle.

Outside, her mother shouted at her father. "Why did you have to kill the human!" She exclaimed, for the umpteenth time.

"It's the rules," her father retorted. "Humans and elves are forbidden to mix! We don't want a repeat of the First World War. And besides, I didn't know that he was her friend!"

"It doesn't matter!" The Queen sighed. "She hasn't moved, hasn't eaten, hasn't slept in two weeks. She won't even talk to us—to anyone. What will we do? The wedding is today!"

"Let me talk to her," the King requested. "Just give me a chance."

"Fine," she put her hands on her waist, "but you better not mess this up!"

He nodded and entered Molly's room.

"Molly?" He sat down on the bed next to her, but she didn't pay him any attention. "Look at me."

She slowly turned her head so that her eyes were pointed down at his feet.

"The wedding is today." No reaction. "Will you please come with us?" Nothing.

"The human—Sherlock, wouldn't have wanted this for you," he pleaded. Molly looked up at him.

"Why did you have to kill him, father?" She asked. Her voice cracked from disuse.

"I didn't kill him, the guards were on him before I even knew what was happening," he protested, "and you couldn't marry him. He's a human, a greedy, amoral, power-hungry human. Just like the rest of them. Human and elves don't mix. It's the natural law."

"He wasn't a human." Molly shook her head. "He was so much more."

"Will you please come to the wedding?" The king was out of ideas. If this didn't work, nothing would.

"On two conditions." Her father sighed an audible breath of relief.

"State your terms."

Molly took a deep breath. "First, I am allowed to wear my sailor's uniform underneath the dress."

"Yes, yes, we can do that." He replied.

"Secondly, we make a stop at his grave to pay my respects."

He thought for a moment. Attending a human's grave on an elf's wedding day? Preposterous! But if he didn't agree, she would refuse to go.

"Fine." Molly swung her legs off the bed and stood up for the first time in many days, a sad smile on her face. Her father left, and she changed into her outfit, before slipping into the dress on top. She pulled the veil over her face and looked in the mirror.

"I'll see you very soon, Sherlock." With that, she turned to the door and stepped out.

The journey to the graveyard was a short one. Molly's dress fluttered at every bump in the road the carriage drove over. Finally, they arrived.

Molly dismounted from the carriage and gracefully glided out, not bothering to pull up her dress. The hem caught in stones and rocks, but she paid no attention to it. There was only one stone she had to concern herself with.

She kneeled down beside the grave, devoid of flowers. Pulling a plumeria barrette from her hair, she set it on the polished marble. The sky darkened, and clouds occluded the sun.

"Sherlock," she started, "I'm here." Molly couldn't help it anymore, she started to cry. A clap of thunder boomed overhead.

"We never got to be together in this life, and I am sorry for that," Molly sniffled. "But things will get better, Sherlock, they always do. Are you with John now? Do you see your brother?" Fast, howling winds swooped across the park. She heard the startled cries of her family as they were pushed back by it. Leaves flew in all directions, trees rustled loudly like the very Earth was whispering to her.

"Why did you have to leave me?" She begged. "How I long to be with you!" Suddenly, a bolt of lightning came out of nowhere and split the grave open. Without hesitation, Molly leaped in.

As soon as it had come on, the freak storm stopped and the grave began to close. But just before the crack was sealed completely, two spirits came out: A dragon and a phoenix, flying together high up in the sky, never to be separated again.


End file.
